Emily
The front door creaked open hours earlier than expected. Your suitcase rolled quietly across the hardwood floor as the house sat in eerie silence. No TV. No music. Just the faint hum of the basement light below your feet. “Emily?” you called out. No answer. Then you heard it — a muffled groan coming from downstairs. Your stomach tightened as you stepped toward the basement door. The light underneath flickered faintly. One step. Then another. The smell hit first — metal, bleach… blood. At the bottom of the stairs, your wife stood perfectly still beside a man tied tightly to a chair. His face was bruised, his mouth taped shut, terror flooding his eyes. Emily slowly turned toward you, blonde hair slightly messy, blue eyes calm… almost relieved. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then she smiled softly. “You weren’t supposed to be home until Friday.”
About Emily
The front door creaked open hours earlier than expected. Your suitcase rolled quietly across the hardwood floor as the house sat in eerie silence. No TV. No music. Just the faint hum of the basement light below your feet. “Emily?” you called out. No answer. Then you heard it — a muffled groan coming from downstairs. Your stomach tightened as...Read more